The Kings of Fall

By Jeff Johnston, Executive Editor

Rays of sunlight sprout over wooded horizons as a predator stalks silently—unbelievably—over dry November leaves. The bobcat seems to enjoy its prowl on this crisp morning, the first real cold snap after a merciless summer. Its pure mastery of stealth impresses another predator who watches, undetected, from a man-made perch in a colossal white oak. Today the cat's dappled coat is only envied, not coveted, because after two years of obsessive study the man believes the giant buck he calls "The King" to be near. A camo facemask hides his smile as a steady, brisk breeze licks his face. Everything is perfect.

The bobcat is forgotten as background noises sharpen into distinct, heavy crunches. A lifetime of listening tells him it's not the random hop hop hop of a squirrel or the sustained rustle of an armadillo. So sure is the hunter that he rotates his body to the direction of the sound and slides the fore-end of his rifle on the treestand's crossbar as quietly as wool on water. Seconds later he spies the flickering light of legs moving through foliage. His pupils dilate and his heart quickens. Time slows as antlers materialize—the same ones that occupy his trail-cam photos and his dreams. He doesn't need the Nikon dangling from his neck to know it's him. The King has come. A squirrel stops mid-scamper to stare, and a crow ceases its incessant calling as the massive, perfectly figured whitetail buck strides into the freshly fallen crop of acorns that lure him to this dangerous funnel.

Yet 80 yards out, something causes the buck to pause, and he stands with his glorious crown of antlers illuminated by the sun. Steam exits his nostrils and rises in vapory wisps. He stares directly at the hunter for a tribulating minute. The hunter doesn't dare make eye contact, and tries to will his body calm—all the while worrying the buck will sense his quivering muscles that threaten to overcome him. In the heavy brush the buck's vitals remain covered. There is no shot.

The buck tests the wind, but the wind betrays him. Finally the buck lowers his head and continues feeding. The hunter's heart leaps. But then a random tangent of acorns steers the buck steadily away from him and possibly out of his life forever.

In desperation the hunter raises a grunt tube and gives a nervous snort. As if prodded by lightning the buck bolts 20 yards ahead and turns broadside, looking for the fool who's dared entered his kingdom. The move has left his chest exposed and heaving in the sunlight. The hunter presses his face against the smooth stock of his rifle, finds the buck in the scope and slides the Remington's safety forward. He concentrates on one ruffled brown hair deep in the pocket of the noble animal's shoulder, and as the crosshair dances on it, he asks for help in guiding his bullet. He breathes in, and holds it, and that's the last thing he remembers.

Crack goes the rifle on opening day.

Tips to Lay Out Ol' Tom

Fly-down time at dawn

is, quite naturally, assumed by many hunters to be the best time all day to bag a tom. Trouble is, the hen or hens that old fella is visiting at that time of day may not let him off the hook long enough to pay attention to your calls and come anywhere near your setup. But during the peak of the breeding season, those hens are apt to visit their nests by noon. Your best shot at calling him close may come then, when old tom is lonely for attention.

Many times a tom hangs up

not because of an obstacle, but because he's walked far enough toward your call and, having not seen a hen, walks away. Your mistake: setting up too far outside that all-important range and never seeing him. When you call, be sure of a good line of sight through terrain and vegetation, and depending on cover, try to get within 100 yards of him before plopping down.

If you hear a gobbler moving away from you,

don't waste more time and breath trying to call him back. Instead, get up and hustle in a wide circle around him. If you need to hear him for reference, use a locator call. When you feel you are ahead of him, quickly set up and give a series of aggressive yelps with a call you haven't used yet. Many times this "fresh hen" tactic will prove successful.

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Like the fossilized skeletons of its ancestors displayed in the Smithsonian, a 12-foot alligator can be scary even when it's dead—something that Shooting Illustrated's Adam Heggenstaller learned in person during a gator hunt in Florida. Read More »

Could 2011 be the year of the work truck? If so, the Ram Tradesman is ready to clock in. Equipped with a juiced-up HEMI® engine.... Read More »

50

Running speed in mph of both a leopard and lion

200

Deaths of humans per year caused by lions

500

Deaths of humans per year caused by elephants

0-5

Deaths of humans per year caused by rhinos

4,000

Number of black rhinos remaining in the wild

25

Number of feet a leopard can leap

$40,000-$100,000

The cost to hunt a lion in any of the classic destinations

30 to 50

Gallons of water consumed daily by an elephant

fast fact

The cackling goose, a smaller-bodied goose prominent in Canada and Alaska, is a tundra-breeder with considerably more black plumage than the Canada. At one time, the cackling goose was considered the smallest subspecies of the Canada, but is now recognized as a separate species.